


I Blame You

by Sourlander



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, POV Poe Dameron, Stormpilot, poefinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourlander/pseuds/Sourlander
Summary: Blaming People is easy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Topographical_Map_Of_Utah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topographical_Map_Of_Utah/gifts).



> This one is for a prompt. [Topo](http://http://topographical-map-of-utah.tumblr.com/) sent me a fic title and I tried transforming it ;)

** I Blame You **

 

I don’t have a whole lot experience with this sort of thing. In fact, I don’t have _any_ experience with this whatsoever. And he should have known that!

            I turn to stare grimly at the droid sitting in the corner, the light streaming in through the venetian blinds drawing bar-like stripes on the white and orange Beebee-unit sitting there, its sensors trained on me, chirping happily.

            “I might get into trouble for this,” I murmur and get up anyway, drawing on the cigar one last time. The work for the day is done. Most of it anyway. Though to be fair, my work is never done. Not really. Every day someone else enters through my door to push another case at me. Another widow looking for her lost husband. Another banker trying to find some dirt on his opponent. I work day and night, trying to make a living on this forsaken world.

Maybe I should have stayed in the navy.

It’s a thought that crosses my mind every day.

The ashtray on the desk is full, just like it is at the end of almost every day. The stump of my cigar rests on top, still smouldering. I hear Beebee-Ate whistling disapprovingly, but I shrug it off.

I pry the venetian blinds open to look out at the city of Corouscant stretching out below me. This place… I hate it with every fibre of my being. But after the end of the war, I couldn’t return back home. The First Order has won and I can’t go back to live with my father on Yavin IV. Someone might go looking for me there.

Instead I came to the Imperial City, hiding right in the centre of the anthill, where I can stay out of sight while trying to fish for information for another group of Resistance fighters that might be forming out there. If there is one, that is. I can’t join them and the thought of someone else continuing to fight this war, makes me sick. But the prosthetic limbs they attached to my body to replace my own don’t work as well and I can’t fly as well as I should be able to.

Why bother… the information will be locked in my desk for the rest of eternity most likely. That is, until someone shows up at my door who knows who I am and what I did.

Very probable this person has already turned up. I can’t tell. But the impact the guy left on me can’t be ignored. And now Beebee-Ate has scheduled this meeting. The damn astromech called it a date. What a ridiculous idea… A date with a costumer? Attachements can get me into trouble and the droid should know that.

Still I feel my heart miss a beat, when I hear the knock at my door and a second later the guy who came in with the case about that Hutt comes in again. The case was solved. But still… I don’t want to see him leave again somehow.

He smiles vaguely and I turn to look at Beebee-Ate as I begin to walk towards the door. “Hey, Finn,” I say, unsure of whether or not the beautiful man in front of me wants me to shake his hand, or hug him. I must have left my professionalism on the street, when I solved the case.

This guy… I looked him up. Not much info on him. Nothing but his name and a bounty on his head. He’s a smuggler. Fair enough. Smugglers I can deal with. What I can’t deal with is the smile he gives me and the way my palms get all sweaty just looking at him. Is it a sense of foreboding I’m feeling, when he shakes my hand?

“Hey, Poe. Ready to go?”

“Sure,” I reply and as I follow him out the door, I turn to throw one last look at Beebee-Ate. “I blame you!” I mouth at him. An accusation which is answered by a couple of happy beeping sounds.

 


End file.
